


Long-Range Vision

by Elisabeth



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Q (James Bond), Gen, Q (James Bond) is former military, Q Branch, Q on an active mission, Skeptical James Bond, Snipers, Worried Eve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisabeth/pseuds/Elisabeth
Summary: Eve is in for a shock. Well, to be fair, pretty much everyone but Q branch is in for a shock.“Q… how many of your minions are secretly veterans?”“Most of them? I didn’t actually think that was a secret though. I thought all of my hirings went across M’s desk at some point. Come on Eve, you don’t think we’re all horrific nerds who don’t see sunlight, right?” His voice was dropping into something vaguely annoyed. “Who else would be so obsessed with explosions and surveillance? MI6 isn’t a place where normal people end up. Most of the normal ones go for MI5, it’s a way cushier posting.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends!
> 
> This is the first actual fanfic I've posted here, so I hope you enjoy it. For some reason, the plot of this story just stuck out to me and wouldn't leave me alone until I fleshed it out a bit.
> 
> I hope you enjoy,  
> E

**Long-Range Vision**

7 July 2016. Jerusalem, Israel.

_ “007, report.”  _

The SMS popped up on the mobile screen Bond was holding, distracted, as he lounged on his uncomfortable hotel bed, mindlessly scanning channels. He felt a loose bed spring drilling into his T12 vertebrae. It was past midnight in Jerusalem, and he had been waiting to hear from MI6 for forty-five minutes. James hit the button to connect his call through the phone’s encryption system and found Ms. Moneypenny on the other end of the line.

“Bond, how is Jerusalem?”

“Hot and unpleasant. Did you get the data package I sent over?”

“We did, thank you. It looks like you’re going to need a sniper team to get the informant out. We can make it look like an attempted shooting while pinging all of his bodyguards so you can get them out in the chaos.”

James stood up and started pacing. His tan cotton suit had seen better days and was rumpled from the many hours it had seen of too-hard use. He sighed audibly over the phone line, “That’s what I was worried about. We have an ideal shot at grabbing them in two days, at 08:00, as they head out to their temple with a smaller-than-usual bodyguard contingent. The best sightline I could find that also had a reasonable view to the front of the house is 350 meters out, in a construction site. I don’t think I can make that shot though, and I don’t have anyone else here on the ground that can either. We’ll need someone trained.”

Q’s voice filtered in from the background, “Bond, from what we dug up on the satellite, it looks like the actual best perch is going to be about 750 meters if I’m being honest. The one at 350 meters will probably have too much foot traffic for the shooters to get away. That rifle will be very audible if it’s that close. I’ll have some of the team look into it tomorrow morning.”

“You’re not wrong, but I don’t think we have anyone on staff who can actually make the 750 meters,” Bond sighed. Q just responded, 

“We have some new technology that I want to try out. I’m hoping that it will make accounting for a lot of the variables a bit easier. I’m packing it all up right now. And I think we can dig up a suitable sniper team as well.”

“Jesus, that’s not a big ask at all,” Bond griped over the line. “Do you know when the team is going to arrive so that I can brief them in time to get everyone set up?”

“They’ll be on the ground by 11 am tomorrow, barring any issues.” That was Eve, taking the call back from Q. She sounded stressed. 

“Are you sending 003?” Bond asked curiously, “I thought she was still in Brazil, but she’s definitely the top sniper Six has active right now.”  
“She is definitely not making this one. She’s been no-contact for a week. We have satellite eyes on her, but contact is too chancy right now. Instead, we’ve got a team of two guys on loan from another department that’ll be there. I’ve been assured that they’re _up to snuff._ ”

“Seven AM it is then. Will they be meeting me here at the hotel, or are we having a rendezvous elsewhere?”

“Your room.”

“Perfect, then I’m going to try and get some sleep in this hothouse”

“Sleep well, Bond. They’ll hopefully make it to you by noon tomorrow, local time.”  
“You too, Moneypenny, Q.” Bond hung up the phone and prepared for bed.

MI6 Headquarters, 22:00.

“Q, you’re absolutely sure about this?” The two of them were holed up in M’s office, the last two executives in the office that night. Eve had enough power to make the call that sent Q out, but she was shaking her head.

“Eve, if you’re asking whether or not I can make the shot, I can make the shot.” Eve pursed her lips at him but didn’t say anything else. 

“I build every fucking gun that comes out of my workshop, and you doubt that I know how to shoot them? I’m actually going to start getting offended soon.” His lips tilted up into a small smile.

“It’s not that. Are you even in practice right now?”

“You ran my background in 2005 before I knew to make too many adjustments to it, yes? I would feel very sad for you and also kind of annoyed if you did not run my name. You’re the only one who could have gotten my honest history here.”

She sighed. “I ran your name.” Her eyes were narrowed now, along with the frown.

“That’s nice. And what did it say? Would you be asking Jesse if he could make the shot?”

“... No. He could definitely do it.”

“So kindly shut the hell up. I literally grew up with this gun in my hands. I think I’m fine. It’s not a lie that I’ve been working on this tech. I do actually keep in touch with the old company sometimes. ”

“Q!” she hissed, shocked. “Are you seriously helping design sniper rifles for a  _ private company? M will kill you.” _

“No!” He looked genuinely offended. “I just…pay attention when Dave starts bitching about what laser sights and guidance assistance do and how it’s cheating, and how nothing is better than the human touch. So… after he’s ranted himself out, sometimes I can see a way to do it better, and then I want to go try it out. It started out because I wanted to see if I could make a drone to deploy and shoot the gun remotely, but our squishy human brains still do it significantly better.”

“And you’re fine with Bond learning all of this?” Q stares at her for a minute.

“If he actually recognizes us as Q branch, then I guess I’ll tell him.” She laughed. 

“He’s going to recognize you in an instant.” She sighed and squinted at him some more. His face was set in a hard line. “Fine. I guess you’re going then. You have a solid spotter?”

“Yeah, Willis can spot me. We go out together for all the long-range rifle testing, so I know we work well together. He was trained as a sniper in the army, so we can switch off shifts if something extreme happens. He’s probably the second-best here.” Q started running a hand through his hair and over his chin. He had four days of stubble and was now thankful that he’d been too lazy to shave that morning.

“We missed each other in training school by six months. I’m actually really glad about that one.” He huffed out a laugh, not even wanting to consider the fallout if he had run into any of his staff in the military. Eve just nodded. She knew that Willis was another weapons designer in the Quartermaster’s division, though she hadn’t realized that he was also a trained sniper. 

“Q… how many of your minions are secretly veterans?” 

“Most of them? I didn’t actually think that was a secret though. I thought all of my hirings went across M’s desk at some point. Come on Eve, you don’t think we’re all horrific nerds who don’t see sunlight, right?” His voice was dropping into something vaguely annoyed.. “Who else would be so obsessed with explosions and surveillance? MI6 isn’t a place where normal people end up. Most of the normal ones go for MI5, it’s a way cushier posting. We’re all a mishmash of military people who finished up or were injured out and then got degrees. We have a few scattered about who went straight through university first and ended up in military labs or RnD.” Eve blinked at him a few times.

“Seriously, who do you think our main recruiting pool is?” Q hissed the last sentence at her because he didn’t actually want to risk shouting. “ _ You know this! You recruited me out of the Navy! _ ” 

“I kind of thought you were a one-off, Q. You were some crazy wunderkind who had his life fall apart and decided to join the military out of duty or something.” Eve grimaced, because she knew it hadn’t just been a lark, but didn’t want to say anymore. Q just buried his face in his hands. “Well, you should probably go look up some more of our backgrounds then. I’ve been pretty exclusively tapping military people and data specialists for the past six years with our new hires. Whatever. Forget it. Can you give me a haircut?”

Q was already pulling his phone out to emergency-ring Willis.

8 July 2016. Jerusalem, Israel. 12:27.

Jesse Wright and Oliver Willis knocked on Bond’s hotel door just after lunch. They both had a duffel, and Jesse also had an enormous hard-sided case slung over his shoulder. The two men were in light long pants and white long sleeve shirts. They both had short, nondescript haircuts, brown hair, and a couple days worth of stubble. Jesse had impatiently pushed his shirt up to the elbows. Both men seemed unaffected by the heat. They wore the sunglasses, dirt, and sweat with an ease that only came from experience. A life that spoke of extended periods in a desert without real showers. It was 33 degrees out, and nobody was happy, but at least it wasn’t 45, and there were no fucking camel spiders.

007 opened the door and regarded them for a minute. His piercing blue eyes scanned them up and down before he backed up to let them in the room.

They both came in and deposited their luggage in a corner. 

“007,” Willis started. “I’m Oliver Willis on loan from Q branch and this is Jesse Wright, our borrowed sniper.” Bond stuck out his hand, and the introductions went around.

“Bond, James Bond. Willis, I’ve seen you around.” He cocked his head at them and blinked a few times. “What the fuck, Q?” Q just sighed. 

“I’m your sniper.” At Q’s words, Bond raised an eloquent eyebrow. 

“Last I heard, you were actually our quartermaster.” Q frowned, mostly because now he owed Eve 50 quid. Willis sighed. 

“Damnit, now we both owe Eve money.” Q just jabbed him with an elbow in the side. He looked up at Bond but included Jesse in the information. 

“Jesse Wright isn’t actually a fake alias. It’s who I was before I took the MI6 job. Officially, he’s as good as dead now.”

“You’re a sniper. _You._ ” Bond’s voice was flat.

“Look 007, just because we don’t go into the field agent track like you doesn’t mean we don’t know our way around the weapons.”

“I’m not saying you can’t shoot,” Bond pressed with a flat look, “I’m saying that it’s different when it’s people, not paper targets” He took a step forward but didn’t raise his voice. “Forgive me for being blunt, but the last time somebody wasn’t entirely confident in their long-range shooting abilities, I was the one that took the hit. Call me overly cautious.”

“Well aware of that, Bond.” Q broke in. “Moneypenny probably feels worse about that than you do, and she was the one that sent me out. I was in Her Majesty’s Armed Forces for ten years.” Bond’s eyebrows were slowly settling back to normal, but Q pushed on. He was going to have to give them something if he wanted this to run smoothly. 

“That was my life before M snapped me up. Willis here was an army sniper for twelve years. I think we know how different humans are from paper, no matter the distance.” Willis didn’t add anything else, but he did cross his arms. His eyes drifted over towards Q speculatively. Q frowned deeply at Wills but it didn’t stop him from opening his mouth.

“Well, what branch were you then? I didn’t realize you were actually in the service. I thought you just… you know… grew up with it,” he asked.

Q sighed, not wanting to go into it. “Navy, born and bred.” His voice was flat, and he changed the subject immediately. “Bond, get out the computer you have stowed away somewhere so we can start plotting the best nests to check out today. Willis, you’re on comms with HQ. I think R is our contact” He straightened up and leveled a glare at the other two men in the room. “As far as you two and Eve are concerned, Jesse Wright is dead six years and staying that way. I’m hoping this is a one-time thing that will absolutely not repeat itself. As far as HQ is concerned, the MI6 Quartermaster is currently taking two days of mandated medical leave for detonating an explosive too close to his face. An exploding pen, I heard. His vision should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

Bond snorted a laugh and thankfully dropped the subject. He moved over to the computer, and the three of them gathered around to stare at the screen.

“Itai Cohen, head of a weapons smuggling ring, lives here,” Bond indicated on the map, before zooming out. “His oldest daughter, Talia, age 32, has indicated a desire to curb his operation or at least limit its scope. She got an extremely unfavorable response from Mossad when she made her first overture, so we’re picking up what they didn’t want. We don’t know why, but the Israelis think that whatever she has in her head is going to be bad news. I’m pretty sure her father is running guns off the books for some of their less savoury operations close to home.” The three men stared pensively out the window at the western wall. None of them really wanted to venture into Palestine, but they may not have a choice.

“Are we keeping Itai alive?” Q asked. James stared for a minute, but only said pensively,

“If you can, it’ll be good. If you can’t, I don’t think anyone will mourn him. It’s going to be your call. Right now, she lives with him, and for all we have been able to find out is essentially his trainee. The plan right now is to make this look like kidnapping for ransom or hit from one of his rivals or part of a militia.”

He moved the clicker to where he had flagged a few spots on the map. “I’ve highlighted all of the potential nests I found within 1000 meters. Q, you said you had another couple you wanted to go stand at?” 

“You may as well get used to calling me Jesse for this. Both of you. If base hears you say Q on comms, we’re all going to be in a world of hurt, and so will Eve. Yes, there was one in particular that had promise. We were thinking here,” He tapped the map. 

“And here,” he tapped it again. “The air is dreadfully still right now, which is terrible for my complexion but great for the range, and it’s supposed to hold for the next week. I think we may be able to push the range a tad more than would usually be comfortable for multiple targets. The campus hill, though further away, is going to be much easier to get out of.” The two of us look young enough that we can probably pass as students if we have to.

The three of them settled in to work and scout, and it was surprisingly comfortable. Q had almost missed this.

8 July 2016. Jerusalem, Israel. 05:37

Q did not miss this at all. Not a bit. He was going to repeat that as many times as he had to until it sounded like the truth in his brain. The pair had settled on top of a deserted school housing building, across the street from the National Library. They hadn’t seen any students yet, but that didn’t mean the campus was totally deserted. They have dressed in all-light colors again. Willis was cursing whatever trend led to hundreds of white buildings in a desert. Q laughed but quietly agreed. It was a lot harder to blend in when your backdrop was a stark white color. Desert architecture was usually practical, but they were deep enough into the city that their area was quite fancy. 

Willis was beside him, muttering quietly on the comms with Bond and R. Q was assembling the rifle and placing sandbags down so recoil wouldn’t mess with multiple targets. They had dragged up almost 200 lbs of ballast, and though he knew the necessity of it, it didn’t mean that he liked hauling a body’s worth of deadweight up six flights of stairs. 

Willis was setting up the scope and a few more instruments that they were field-testing.

“In position. Deploying drones.” Q opened the case and activated the small drones one by one.

“Heard that,” R crackled across the radio. “I’ll keep them under the radar if I can, we haven’t pinged any systems yet and I’d like to keep it that way.” Q was glad it was R on the other end of the line. She was steady on missions in a way that not many were. The drones took off, buzzing down to the houses across the ravine below. Eventually, they disappeared from plain sight. He snagged an earpiece from the case and dropped it into his ear. Willis side-eyed him, but he just shrugged in the end.

“Drones released. Jesse, where do you want wind detection?” It took Q a second before he realized that was directed at him. He was on his stomach with his eye in the sight. He poked a button on the earpiece and responded quietly to Willis,

“One drone on the motorway at the bottom of this hill, the other on their roof if you can manage it.” He nodded and relayed the information. After a few minutes, the information popped up on their data stream. 

“Laser sight says 897 meters. You’re sure you’re ok with that?” It was the third time Willis had asked, so Q just nodded and sank into the data that Willis was feeding him. His mic was still on mute, so he looked over and said to his partner, 

“My record in Afghanistan was 1900. Entirely off books, but this shouldn’t be too bad compared to that. We were stuck in a hole in a rock for seven hours. I’m hoping this will be a piece of cake.” Willis clearly hadn’t been expecting that. He pulled out his own earpiece. 

“I thought you were working on their computer systems, boss”

“I did work on quite a few of their computer systems  _ after _ I got put on medical leave. M tapped me for MI6 because I headed up a Digital Securities task force team that bounced around as needed. She needed an overhaul like the one I gave a bunch of the navy systems. She got me on board barely in time, too.” Annoyed, Q just jerked his shirt up on the left half of his body. “Stop asking questions.” 

Beneath his annoyance, Q was glad that he wasn’t a spy or field agent. He didn’t really have the temperament for it anymore. If all it took to crack him was one of his underlings questioning him like this, he didn’t really have any hope for a long-term time in the field, at least how a spy operated. He finally was able to get his shirt up enough to show Willis. 

On his exposed left side, a huge starburst of scars radiated out from his ribs, interspersed with nasty looking shrapnel wounds. A tattoo ran through it, but before Willis could see more than the first few letters, the shirt was jerked back down.  _ By St--- _ was intricate black line-work, wriggling through the mess of scars.

“The plan is to drop three of the security team before they hear the shots. Technically, it should be possible. The noise will take almost 3 seconds to get down there, and I’m hoping that they won’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late.” Q ignored the baffled look he was getting from his minion.

“Right, I can do that.” Willis, thankfully, had decided to drop it. 

“I need you to call the ones who are definitely armed from the video feed we should get off the house. I’ll try and prioritize the ones most threatening.” He just got a nod, and they both got themselves low, settling in for the wait.

Jesse could hear Willis relaying the plan to Bond, but he fell into the zone and let most of it fall away. Breathing slow, heart rate slow, long haul prone. He could feel the man next to him doing the same.

_ 1:15 hours later _

“Security car approaching the house for pickup” crackled through their headset. That was Bond’s voice.

Jesse was ready.

He waited for the car to stop. Four men working security got out of the car. Two stayed by the car, two went to the door. At the door, they were met by two figures. The four turned and walked from the house.

Breathe out. Trigger pull and hold.

He waited at the edge of the pull for them to get halfway down the walk.

_ Crack. _ Guard at the car, upper chest. He dropped, but they hadn’t reacted yet.

_ Crack.  _ The second guard at the car. Head. The two other security crew began to turn to run their employers back into the house.

_ Crack.  _ Guard with Itai. Upper chest.

Breathe in, hold. Hold. Hold. 

Breathe out. Hold. 

The guard fell on top of his charge, Itai. Jesse guessed the crew on the ground were hearing the shots now. Bond came upon the one man left standing beside Talia, seeming to be a jogger who wanted to help. He disarmed the man and knocked him out, a lightning-fast blow to the head. Jesse could see the car door opening. He waited. 

Half pull and hold. The door on the side of the car close to them opened. Driver. Perfect.

_ Crack. _ The man dropped.

Willis was already packing up the gear. Jesse dismantled the rifle and stowed it in the case, but left the sandbags. They didn’t have time to haul the bags and run.

They made it back down the stairs and into their vehicle before any sirens arrived.

The car trip back to their hotel was tense but uneventful. R kept a running commentary in their ears. Jesse only chimed in once.

“Bond,” his voice pitched low and raspy from the dryness. “Do you need us for anything else, or should we go straight back to the airport.”

“Airport, I think. That was… Yeah. I think I owe you one, Jesse. I’ll catch up with you at Six at some point, I hope.”

“Mphgh.” Q just grunted over the comms, trying to pull Q to the front and push Jesse back.

“We’ll keep you posted,” was all Willis added before they stashed their earbuds and headed for the airport.

After fifteen minutes of quiet driving, Oliver just turned to look at Q quietly for a few minutes. “While entirely unexpected, that was some damn nice shooting.”

“Thanks.” Q did not want to talk about it.

“I did not think you had that in you.”

“Kind of the point of an alias, Willis. Shut up and drive.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

“Right. I’ll just… pretend like I don’t know you can do that for the rest of my life at work.”

“Cheers, mate. Does this mean you’re going to go all weird on me now?”

“Nah, I’ll sort it out. I think it’s Bond that you have to watch. I already had an inkling after all that range time. The sniper still isn't something you just figure out how to do. Bond looked like you shot him in the face instead of the marks.”

_ Fuck. _

29 July 2016, Three weeks Later 

Q and Willis are heading out to their normal range to test out some of the new specs Q added to the rifle after seeing it in action. It was an hour out to Kingsferry, but they had the longest shooting range in the area, and Q had booked the whole morning. 

The pair made the drive in fifty minutes, and were surprised to see Bond already there waiting with his own gear.

“You two lads have any time to teach an old dog new tricks?”

“ _ 007, _ I didn’t even know you were back in the country.”

“Am I back in the country? How nice.”

“Do you need me to call him in, boss?” Oliver asked 

Q looked hard at Bond’s face. He looked well-rested, but there was a terrible tension in the set of his shoulders. Q had read the reports Bond had sent back from Palestine after they had gotten out, and it was not pretty. Itai had his fingers in a lot of really nasty pies.

Bond finally spoke up, “I’m not really fit for human company right now. I’d like to shoot some things if you don't mind sharing the range. I didn’t even know this range was an option. All the ranges we have at Six are all horrible. They’re  _ inside _ .” Q sympathized. He also hated indoor ranges.

Oliver looked at Q and just shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t care,” was all he said.

Q rummaged in the back of the car and passed over a few cases to Bond.

“We may as well see how useful you are.”

Some tension dropped out of Bonds shoulders, and they all headed over to the bunkers.

“Thanks.”


	2. Inter-Departmental Cooperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good Morning Leadership Team:  
> Due to a recent government-wide edict, all workers employed in an active-duty branch of the United Kingdom’s government are required to take basic qualification examinations of mental and physical readiness. Because our country has faced an unprecedented number of attacks on our home soil this past year, these standards will be mandated for the safety of all in our building."
> 
> For all that Q worked for a top-secret government organization, office policies (and politics) could be the bane of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is one headcanon that won't leave me alone. I'm marking the story as incomplete because I feel like there's an actual story with a plot itching at my brain, unlike the one-shot that I had originally planned. Hope you enjoy,
> 
> E

**Chapter Two - Inter-Departmental Cooperation**

Monday, 15 August 2016.

_Good Morning Leadership Team:_

_Due to a recent government-wide edict, all workers employed in an active-duty branch of the United Kingdom’s government are required to take basic qualification examinations of mental and physical readiness. Because our country has faced an unprecedented number of attacks on our home soil this past year, these standards will be mandated for the safety of all in our building. Each tier of worker will be required to meet an individualized standard level, and though exceptions may be made for some outstanding cases in regards to work-readiness, all employees must have their first round of tests completed by 20 December 2016._

_If a worker fails to meet these standards, they will be placed on a probation list. Those on probation rolls will be required to re-test every two months until a passing score is achieved. If there has not been a passing score within a year, further action will be taken to transfer that worker into a department for which they qualify. Furthermore, as members of the SIS, all of our employees who are not yet weapons certified will be certified in gun and simple weapon safety, and will be encouraged to work towards a license to carry live weapons._

_Each department head will be responsible for scheduling testing for themselves and their staff, in accordance with the guidelines set forth. Attached is a list of departmental requirements and standards, as well as group class and testing times for firearms and basic self-defence certification. The first two departments that receive an overall departmental compliance score of at least %80 certified employees will receive an incentive that is TBD. I have scheduled a Leadership meeting at 14:00 today to go over the overall qualification standards and will be at the meeting along with Laine Parish to answer any other questions that may still be lingering. After the meeting, if there are further questions, please direct them to Ms. Parish of Human Resources, Ext 0012. She will be in charge of upholding and maintaining SIS qualification standards beginning 1, January, 2017._

_Eve Moneypenny, on behalf of_

_Gareth Mallory_

_M, Director of SIS_

Q just sighed when he read the memo and leaned back in his desk chair. Eve had looped him in on the announcement weeks ago, but he could smell the headache coming from a mile away. Though technically he was a branch manager and not a department head, R (IT and digital securities), U (Equipment maintenance and fabrication), and X (R&D), his actual department heads, would probably be in his office complaining momentarily. He glanced out his office door, and sure enough spotted R, also known as Liv Meekings, stomping towards him.

“Q, seriously?” She looked angry. He just nodded, and she ran a hand through her short red hair.

“I booked all day tomorrow with the testers for endurance, strength, and psych for everyone. I was going to make an announcement after the four of us got back from the damn meeting.” He half-shrugged. “Eve tipped me off last week, but I didn’t have any details until yesterday.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” Every eye in hearing distance swiveled towards them, so he just gestured that she come in and shut the door.

Once R had sat down across from him, she took two deep breaths.

“I know you’re swamped Liv,” he said soothingly before she could have a full-on meltdown. “I’ve already gotten paperwork going for our crew that will definitely get exceptions to some of the tests. I’ll email them to each person so they can fill out and file them as they wish. Overall though, our test scores basically are just making sure we can run 3k in nineteen minutes and lift 30 kilos.” She looked less angry now, but not much more comforted. “Seriously. Your department is qualified as Tier 3, which is the second most relaxed set of standards.” She still looked doubtful, but was planning to take him at his word. 

“Just be glad you’re not active agents or Oliver. U is going to be very upset that they’ve qualified Equipment and Fabrication as Tier 2, but honestly his team should be fine. We’ll get everyone through by the end of next week. You’ll see. It’ll be dreadful, but won’t you have some peace of mind knowing that your minions can all get out of the building or fight back a little?”

“It’ll be a serious pain in the arse, is what it’ll be.” She was grumping for the sake of grumping now, and her tone was softening up. “Are we going to be sweaty and gross all day tomorrow?”

“We do have a real gym and shower facility set up here at HQ, so probably not. Our team meeting this afternoon will basically be us letting everyone know about their individual time slots and warning them to bring a change of clothes so they aren’t stuck in the Health Department sweat suit garbage.” Her lips pursed at him and her nose wrinkled in disgust. They both could guess at the huge number of agents who had soaked that clothing in sweat before.

“Q,” she whined a bit more, “my department is the one with the most private sector. U and X have all the vets. I’m stuck with the nerds.” He gave her a very dry look and she just smirked. “Ok, fine. We’ll probably be fine. This is so stupid though.”

Q just looked at her and sighed. He’d been paying close attention to the whispers of terrorist threats to London, ever since people realized how destructive automobiles were to crowds of people.

“You know that everyone is terrified by the number of deaths that have happened in London this last calendar year, let alone the two assaults on our building in the past three years. Honestly, this may be a good thing. At least R&D will have _legal_ live firearms at all of their desks now.” R shook her head, but didn’t comment because she knew it was true.

“Guns and self defense courses will be over this weekend. I booked four group sessions, two Saturday and two Sunday, so we can keep a skeleton staff for all the active missions. Tell your minions that all the classes outside of regular work hours will be overtime pay.” Q ran a hand over the top of his head, and when R looked closely, he was grinning. 

“I really, desperately, need our department to be the first fully certified behind the active agents. Midge, head of data and analytics, has been absolutely insufferable about this spectacle and I want to rub her nose in it. I may have blocked her out of all of her appointment slots yesterday, but if anyone asks, it was due to a server error.” R stared at him for a second before they both started to chuckle. After a few moments, it had turned to full belly laughs. 

“Ok,” gasped Q. “We need to be serious now,” snorting another laugh. R just looked up slyly,

“Serious about how much of a twat she was last week? She called Helena fat! Maybe fewer people will harass the admins once they realize they’re issued guns too,” added R, a bit breathlessly before she stood up, cracking her knuckles. “Ok, I'll get back to it, and I guess we’re not going to get much done tomorrow so I may as well bust everyones’ bums until two.”

“Have fun, oh mistress of terrors,” was all Q said, before falling back into his unread email inbox. It seemed to have spawned more paperwork in his inbox in the last five minutes. How?? Before he could even finish his next missive though, U and X were both standing in his doorway.

“Alex, Oliver.” He sighed once, “Why don’t you come in and shut the door. It’ll be better to rip the plaster off all at once.”

“Why are we Tier 2, Q? This is bollocks!” was all the main floor of Q branch heard Oliver say before the door clicked shut. Alex just barked a laugh as they started to sit and slapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re in charge of the armoury, Ollie. If your crew goes down, we’re all fucked.”

Oliver just sighed. The man wasn’t wrong.

Monday, 22 August 2016.

Q had been absolutely right. Enough of his branch sailed through the qualifications that all three departments hit their mandated 80% by Sunday night, even R’s nerdlings. He was feeling triumphant on Monday morning because Midge had been very stroppy when she realized he was already finished with the first 80%. It was a beautiful day.

_Hello glorious members of the Quartermaster Team,_

_I would like to thank each and every one of you for your dedication to this job and to our continued reputation as the best branch in MI6. As we were the first team (outside of our active agents) to qualify ourselves mentally and physically for duty as per the new departmental regulations, our glorious overlords have decided to see fit to allow us to run amok in the daylight, above ground, for one day of our choosing. Because this is supposed to be “fun” and “a reward” I have three options for you. You may sign up for your preference, and once the numbers attending each outing have been confirmed, I’ll sort out timing._

_Best,_

_Q_

_Outing Options: 1) Pub Buyout, led by R, 2) Football Game, let by X, 3) Gun prototype guinea pig and 3 hrs free range time, let by U and Q_

Tanner, temporary head of the active agent division also called a department gathering that afternoon.

“Listen up, agents. As you lot have been working very hard this past year, we’re rewarding your poor overworked souls, along with the Q branch. You’ll have a choice of outings. Your options include: Firearms fun time, Pub Buyout, or Football Game.” He looked around the room and saw that everyone was starting to jostle each other, debating which one they would sign up for. He sighed. Having forty rowdy field agents in one room was never fun, as they didn’t see each other all that much.

“These won’t be held simultaneously to try and get all of you to attend at least one of each. Please sign up on this sheet. Q and U said they had some crazy stuff that they wanted to field test, and lord knows you assholes like blowing things up way more than you should. If you could please try and keep Q and U from showing up at my door bitching about wanton destruction that would be great. They lead your missions, they field test your equipment, they know all of your capabilities, so sign up at your own risk.” 

Half of the juniors veered off to the pub or the footie lists. Every double O present beelined for the explosives. Tanner just put his face in his hands. Before anyone was able to escape the room he added,

“If anyone is forced to miss a scheduled activity because of work, we’ll make sure you can attend another.” His eyes darted over to the agents most likely to skip out, and gave them a pointed look. “This is a genuine thank-you, and I’d like all of you to reap this fun benefit of your hard work, so you _will_ show up and at least pretend to relax.” Bond grimaced. _Socialization_.

Q was sitting in his office massaging his temples, hoping that James Bond sitting on his desk was an illusion. He wasn’t, but Q could dream.

“No no, you misunderstand,” Bond wasn’t laughing, but his eyes crinkled at the edges like he was thinking about it. “Everyone has their favorite Q-branchers. I’m sure all of you have favorite agents. I know you pair off handlers and techs with specific agents more often than not. You have just as many trigger happy psychopaths as the field agents do.” Q snorted, but didn’t disagree. Every gun nut in his department had been itching to get their hands on some of the more extreme weaponry they were testing on-site, and had been emailing him prototype testing requests constantly since they realized what was on offer as a lab rat.

“I’m just saying, you’ll probably get better and more accurate results if you make it a competition. Agents can be very vain, especially if they’re getting shown up.”

“And why are you suggesting this?” Q wasn’t swayed.

“Because, even if I’m not going to explain it to the rest of the agents like this, they could stand to have some more respect for the Q branch. It’s not what it used to be.” Q’s face immediately morphed into a scowl, and 007 hastened to elaborate.

“I mean that in a good way,” he hastened to add, hands raising soothingly in front of him. “You’re equipping them with cutting edge tech and I don’t think a lot of them realize it’s not off-the-rack. Boothroyd was kind of off his rocker, and everyone knew it. You’ve dragged MI6 into the 21st century kicking and screaming.” Bond’s mouth kicked up at the corner. “Besides, you two dropping into my mission was… not even in the realm of possibility for me three weeks ago. However, it proved to be one of the cleanest grabs I’ve ever run, and that’s saying something. It had the potential to be an utter disaster.” Q snorted, knowing that was an understatement. “Everyone thinks Q branch is a bunch of little lambs.” Bond trailed off, not sure where he was planning to go with that.

“Cut it with the flattery, 007. You just want to test fire all the goodies I keep here under lock and key. I know your tricks.”

“Guilty,” Bond said as he eased into a smile. He changed the subject, whip-quick, “Are you ever going to tell me why Willis thought you just grew up knowing how to snipe, rather than sniper school like he did?” Q barked a laugh at the sudden change in direction, but decided to answer truthfully because it had been such a good day. He waved a hand at a chair and steepled his fingers.

“You know, if you just google Jesse Wright you’ll probably get your answer but I’ll save you the struggle. My mother was an olympic champion shooter and co-founder of Accuracy International. Willis caught me on the phone arguing with one of their designers a year ago and that cat was out of the bag, but at least now he doesn’t think I’m doing dirty trading to get cheap rifles.” Q just sighed, “I couldn’t really hide how familiar I was with those particular rifles. We’ve always gone to the testing range together with the long range weapons. He’s really good.” 

Bond’s eyes were bright overhead as they studied Q, but Q just stared back at him quietly. 

“You can sit down in a real chair you know,” he grouched a bit, “you don’t have to loom on my desk like a menacing stack of paperwork.”

“I like looming.” He was smirking again, damn him. Q rolled his eyes in exasperation because Bond ignored boundaries like thieves ignored locks, they both viewed them as an obstacle to overcome, not a barrier. Q’s head felt marginally like it was going to explode. 

“Is that how you get all the information from your informants then?” Q snorted. “You could just try asking what you want to know. Surprisingly, I find that I actually rather trust you.” Bond stared hard at the fluffy hair man in the cardigan across from him, and sank into a seat across the desk from him..

“Why aren’t you an active field agent? We could really use a sniper as good as you. Your cardigans put me off at first, they look very cuddly, but it’s a sham, isn’t it?” Q stared at him with pursed lips for a while before choosing his words.

“First, leave my cardigans alone, asshole. This is actually called current fashion. You could open a magazine or two. Second, my left eye and ear are about half mechanical at this point, so medical would rightfully try to bar me if I applied for the kind of active agent role needed here at MI6. It has the potential to be a liability because without contacts or glasses, the sight difference between my two eyes is a problem. That alone disqualifies me from a lot of missions.” Q tapped the right lens of his specs, and waggled his eyebrows at Bond. “The right lens is just coated plastic, if you look at it carefully. I’ve been thinking about augmenting it with a digital HUD, but I didn’t want to mess with my main pair.”

Bond looked at him with narrowed eyes. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully.

“If it’s that much of a problem, then how risky was it for you to pull the trigger in Jerusalem?” He wanted to know. Q shook his head.

“Not risky. It was long distance, low risk, no close quarters engagement and I was on the ground for less than 24 hours. Standard field work for most of the active agents is much more… up close and personal. That’s the kind of stuff I probably should not be doing. The actual reason I’ve never pushed for it is that I can do a lot more good here. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m _very_ good with computers. Mallory would actually go apocalyptic if he knew I’d gone to Jerusalem. Apparently I’m a valuable asset to our government.” Bond just gave him the slow blink of a cat.

“Don’t worry, Q. I’ve definitely noticed.” He could tell that bond was laughing at him, even though his face didn’t move. Q was both flattered and annoyed.

“You could show your appreciation by bringing more of your gear back intact,” Q snipped cheerfully.

“Where would the fun in that be?” He stood and started making his way to the door. “I’ll see you Friday, Q.”

09:00, Friday, 26 August 2016.

A motley crew of agents and techs were assembling at the range, idly talking about work and comparing their gear. Everyone had been instructed to bring whatever equipment they wanted, except firearms. Those would be provided by the Q branch. Q and U were both there early, wandering around and setting up some of the gun ranges for their tests. The cover story was a reunion outing for a bunch of retired army buddies. As Q looked out over the gathered employees, he let out a satisfied huff. 

Out of work-wear, it was very hard to draw the line in the sand that usually existed at work, because despite being forced into a government dress code all day long, Q’s minions were just as comfortable at a testing range as they were behind desks. Bond and Corinne, 003, were gossiping over by her car, and everyone else was generally wandering towards the bunkers.

“Hello everyone!” Q said, as he and Oliver approached the group as they reached the main building. Oliver wandered over to Bond, and proceeded to keep an eye on the field. “Thank you for joining us on this surprisingly nice August day. Oliver and I, you all may know him better as U, have just finished setting up for our outing today, and I’ll walk you through what that means.” Here, everyone started to eye up their fellows.

“Q branch has eight experimental, mostly non-field tested weapons that everyone will rotate through. There will be at least one Q branch employee in each group that will be showing everyone how to use the weapons, and everyone can have some practice with it to work out the quirks. There are about 25 of you, so you’ll split up into sets of four or five and rotate through them so we’re not here all day. Once you’ve all sorted out what buttons go where, then we’ll settle in to get baseline scores and accuracy for each one. Everyone will get an individual score with each weapon, and then we’re handing you a feedback form to see what you like and don’t like about it.” He smirked a little bit at them, and added, “After lunch, if anyone is up for another challenge or a bit of competition, you can try out a nasty little obstacle course that we’ve set up for our enjoyment.” 

“So. The first thing I’m going to do is split you up so everyone in R&D, get up here. Nominally, you’re going to be the ones showing how the stuff works, so each of you grab three or four of your fellows, and then I’ll send you off to your zones.” Q started pointing and gesturing vigorously, and generally making a nuisance of himself. Everyone grumbled good-naturedly but headed over to the range. Somehow, Bond, Corinne and Willis all managed to be in the same group. Q just rolled his eyes.

By lunch, everyone was looking rather wild eyed and ragged around the edges. Q was at a table compiling all of the results into his laptop data sheets. The agents were all happily eating their sandwiches, but eyeing the techs warily. Q was deeply amused behind his laptop. He suspected that none of the agents had realized how many pyromaniacs he employed before today. 003 sat down across from him, and he heard Willis slide in beside.

“I like the modified sniper,” Corinne said. “I headshot at 900 meters with it. That was a new record for me.” Q smiled at her. “Willis still beat me though. I am less pleased about that,” she pouted at the agent across from her. 

“Don’t be like that Corinne,” Willis said cheerfully, “Q and I are the ones who built it. I’ve had a lot more time adjusting to the novelty that you did.” She smiled back at him, but just sniffed.

“I’ll beat you out by the end of the day,” was all she said with determination.

“I thought you might like that one,” Q said around a mouthful of corned beef. “Don’t be too mad at Willis for that one, he’s my usual guinea pig for shooting so he’s far more familiar with all of this than you lot are. I’m actually kind of impressed by your scores, to be honest.” Corinne gave him an extremely bland look, unsure about whether or not she was flattered or offended. He found that he didn’t really care.

“So, any favorites out of the weird stuff?”

“The exploding drones,” she said immediately. “I’m not used to flying them, but it has potential.” Q smiled at her, but winced on the inside. Everyone’s favorite so far had been the exploding drones. He was doomed. 

“You’re welcome to come over to Q-branch during any down-time you have. We have a drone flying course set up in our rafters. Not an exploding drone, mind you. Just a regular one. Q branch operates a lot of them remotely so they need somewhere to practice. It’s not always going to be an option for one of us to operate them for you though, so it’ll be good for all of the agents to get more comfortable with it” Corinne just nodded thoughtfully. It was a bit baffling that three years ago drone technology had been a fantasy, but it was a very real danger that they had to get used to fast.

“So who’s top of the charts for the morning?” Bond asked, leaning over Q’s shoulder. Q was almost done compiling results so he leaned off to the left and let Bond have a look. Agents were generally better with guns, though there were a few noticeable exceptions, and the techs were far better with the explosives. 

The plan for the afternoon was to pack up all the remaining explosives and let everyone have fun with just the guns. He was planning to display the ranking lists somewhere noticeable, too. A little pigtail pulling never hurt anyone.

By the end of the long afternoon, Q was up on the sniper hill, checking in on the info-drones. They had never been put through hard use for close to nine hours before, and he was curious to see how they were holding up. As the day wound down and everyone was packing up, 001, also known as Edward Donne slid up to Q. They were the only two left on the sniper hill so Q didn’t startle, but it was a near thing. 

“Did you get all the data you needed?” he asked, with his eyes scanning his fellow agents on the hill below. Q snorted and pressed his eye to the scope of the gun. It wasn’t like he had tried to hide the fact that they were being bribed into being test subjects.

“Yes and no. We made a lot of notes and lists of things that need tweaks, but more than anything else I needed to get you lot familiar with some of the modifications that I’m planning to put on the standard issue service guns.” Donne nodded. He had noticed that a few of the handguns, though they looked normal, fired a little differently.

“How did you get the near-silent handgun? It’ll be useful, but it’s kind of terrifying.” he asked curiously. Q’s face took on a dangerous smile, and he turned over on a shoulder to look at 001.

“Do you know why a gun is so loud in the first place?” Q asked, fiddling with some of the data specs in the tech case, “It’s all the trapped gas making a thunderclap when the bullet leaves the barrel. I got the idea a year ago after 004 was undercover in Moscow and really needed a silencer but couldn’t fit it anywhere on her person without being obvious.” He shook his head at the memory and Donne nodded. She had been held in a Moscow prison for three days after that incident and everyone had to walk on eggshells in the country now. 

“We’ve designed a new type of barrel that’s still rifled all the way down, but it has small slits in the front third that let the trapped pressure escape more slowly, reducing the noise.” Donne blinked slowly, but understood the general idea. “It’s essentially that we’ve built a small silencer into the front third of the gun. The trapped gasses can expand slowly into a chamber outside of the barrel but inside the gun casing, and then escape out the front. It’s not perfect, but it’s better, and hopefully not many people will hear it and look for gunfire. It cuts down accuracy and power, but not enough to be a liability.” Q shrugged, a bit defensively.

“Well,” Donne said after a moment of quiet, “It’s a hell of a lot better than what we’re used to getting, so thanks. We probably don’t say that enough, but you guys have been actually great about giving us actually useful stuff recently.” Q snorted with laughter, and turned back to the scope. Donne studied him for a minute.

“Are you any good with that thing?” Q turned back to eye him balefully.

“Yes.” Donne grinned, not surprised.

“Are you going to fire any shots today?” Q, still looking at him, thought about it for a short moment. He hadn’t fired anything yet because he was working on compiling all the data and analyzing it, but his fingers were itching.

“Sure, why not. You wanna get in the binoculars and call a spot?” Donne just laughed and got into place. 

“How far are you looking to go here, boss. Closest target is 500 meters, furthest is 1250.” Q snorted. 

“Willis snuck one out there at 1500 the last time we were out here, let's live on the wild side.”

“Your funeral, Mr Head Boffin Sir,” Donne said as he looked for the white metal cutout.

“Naah,” Q contradicted, “You’re still underestimating our boffin selves, 001.”

Q didn’t tell him that he’d been on the range long enough to not really need a spotter for this shot. He let himself quiet down and fall into the zone. He heard 001 talking to him a bit, but tuned it out.

 _Crack._ Q waited a beat, watching through his scope. The bullet hit the upper chest, dead center. Q sat up and started to call back all the drones before their batteries died. He really didn’t want to go fetch. He broke down the rifle and got it squared away in the case while Donne was putting away the scope and catching drones as they came back.

“Color me impressed, Q.” Q shrugged. He probably should not have shown off. 

“Willis and I usually are stuck field testing all of this shite by ourselves.” He deflected as they finished packing up and started to haul the equipment back down to the cars. “We’ve gotten pretty comfortable with it all.” 001 nodded and let it drop. “Did you have any favorites 001?” Q asked curiously.

“The drones,” Donne said immediately. Q just groaned. 

“Of course it’s the bloody drones.”

“Not all of us can make crazy shots like that, Q,” he said with a laugh, “Some of us need an assist here or there.”

All of the agents and techs have finally gathered down in the clubhouse for a final reveal of the weapons scores for the day. Edward and one of Willis’s leads in equipment had come out tops in the obstacle course, and almost all of the other results were a mixed bag. Corinne had smugly taken the riflery lead with 1250 meters, tied with Oliver Willis who laughed at her. 

“Thank you all for coming out today!” Q said enthusiastically. He was met with a lot of happy, tired rumbling. Before all of you head out for the night, I would like to recognize the top agent and top tech who came out with the top tallied scores on all the R&D weapons we actually needed to test this morning.

“Scarlett, 004, where are you? Hand up.” In the back, Scarlett raised her hand delicately. She looked unbearably smug. “You’re queen of the guinea pigs today, and are totally welcome to come down to R&D anytime.” Her smug smile grew bigger, as many of the other agents looked on with jealousy. “Harry too, where are you, you got the highest tech score here,” Q continued. Harry, a former marine, just stared at all the other R&D employees. He was one of Willis’s best gunsmiths and he knew it.

“Maybe you assholes will break the guns less and I’ll have less work to do if you actually figure out how to use them properly,” he grunted at the room before falling silent, face blandly frowning. Willis just patted his shoulder in sympathy. 

“Ok, settle down” Q said at last, “you’re all free to go. If this is something that you’d be interested in doing again, I may try and run one every month or so to keep you up to date on all the new weapons specs. Seems like it would be useful. Just email me or Willis if you want to get put on a rotation for guinea pig. Now everyone get out of here.”

Everyone had left without a fuss except 007. Q stared at the man as he leaned on the bonnet of his car in the lot, practicing his thousand yard stare. Q sighed, and hauled the last box of guns out of the room. Willis had gotten most of it into the MI6 SUV and taken it back to headquarters, but the sniper rifle was Q’s personal one. He bit the bullet and headed out to his car.

“You didn’t participate at all in the exercises,” Bond remarked quietly as Q loaded the weapon into his trunk and locked it down. Q turned to look at him. Despite it being late evening, the sun was still bright above the horizon.

“Bond, I know that you actually announce your name at every given possibility, but not all of us have that luxury.” Bond cocked his head to the side, content to listen for now. 

“I _am_ Cooper Smith, and I have been for six years. In the public’s eye, I’m a mid to high level government paper pusher in the tax office. I have a history, government ID, work experience, two cats and a mortgage. None of that is a lie. It’s not a cover story. Cooper Smith _has_ to be real. It’s what I agreed to when M brought me over. She thought someone in MI6 would be too juicy of a target to pass up if it got out that they knew their way around all the military encryption systems as well.” 

Bond stared at him some more, still not talking. Q supposed it was fair, in a way. He knew Bond’s history inside and out as part of his job, and more than was written on paper since he had actually gotten to know the man. It was next to impossible to hide your background from someone as skilled as Q was. He felt like Bond was staring all the way through him and then back again though. Q kept talking,

“As MI6’s quartermaster, I have to be invisible. It’s a dangerous enough job as it is. Jesse Wright can’t come back, unless it’s another matter of national security. Even then, it’s better not to.”

Bond cocked his head at him. “I’ll stop pushing. Just,” he stopped talking to run a hand over his face. He stared at Q for a second longer before continuing, “just be careful Q. This kind of secret and double life has a nasty tendency to get blown out of the water in a heartbeat.” His face darkened, and Q thought of Blofeld. He was still in MI6 custody, rotting in a jail that didn’t exist, in a site that nobody knew about. Bond wasn’t done though, 

“For all the pretty, logical, nice words that come out of your mouth, it’s hard to squish the kind of person Jesse Wright was back into a box. Nobody put a gun to your head and forced you in Jerusalem. That was a choice that you already admitted was risky.”

Q sighed. He was well aware of that.

“Go home, Bond.”

“Night, Q”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably not have a regular update schedule for this, but I'll try to get one out every week or so. 
> 
> Ta,  
> E

**Author's Note:**

> I know that a really popular version of Q is a gangly nerd who does hacking and little else. However, he's kind of a badass. I don't think that my headcanon is anywhere near accurate to what he actually is in cannon, but I can't see a whole branch of straight nerds running Q branch. Even Boothroyd was a major. I feel like a huge chunk of MI5 & 6 are recruited straight out of the military, and that you'd be hard-pressed to find one that's "not dangerous."
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and drop me a comment!  
> E


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